


Liability

by sergeantwinter



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fake AH Crew, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 08:49:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13807728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sergeantwinter/pseuds/sergeantwinter
Summary: Jeremy is new to the force, and jumps at the chance to go undercover and help bring down the Fake AH Crew. He became an officer to make a difference, to change Los Santos for the better... what he didn't count on was this investigation changing him. What will happen when Jeremy begins to sympathise with these criminal masterminds, and maybe even fall in love with one of them?





	Liability

Jeremy’s stomach was in knots as he walked into the police station. The place seemed more claustrophobic than usual, bustling with people who seemed to be doing work for once instead of clustered around the coffee machine. Detective Holden grabbed Jeremy’s arm before he could start towards his desk, pulling him away from the action of the precinct. Detective Holden wasn’t that much taller than Jeremy and was certainly in worse shape, but Jeremy felt like he was prey about to be devoured.

Holden didn’t seem to notice his discomfort, or possibly he just didn’t care. “Ready, Dooley?” He didn’t pause for an answer. “File’s on your desk. Briefing starts in five.”

Gone as quickly as he had arrived, Jeremy was left open to the ravenous gaze of his colleagues. _Act normal,_ Jeremy told himself as he made his way to his desk, overly conscious of the way he was walking, trying not to be too fast or too slow. A manila folder the thickness of a short novel sat on his desk, CLASSIFIED stamped on the front in red. Jeremy flipped the cover over.

The Los Santos police department had been chasing the Fake AH Crew for years. Between committing crimes and inspiring them, they were the most notorious gang in the city. There should have been more than enough evidence to convict them, give each member multiple life sentences, yet somehow they had evaded arrest. They were always one step ahead. Jeremy skimmed through the document; most of it was just old paper work including victim and witness statements, arrest reports, interview transcripts. Jeremy was relatively unfamiliar with the Fakes, but he supposed that would benefit him in the long run – the less he knew beforehand, the less chance that he would slip up.

Jeremy was jerked out of his reading by hands grabbing his shoulders. “Big day today, Jeremy,” Jason grinned as he took his seat at the desk next to Jeremy’s. Jeremy closed the file before turning to face him.

“I'm so nervous. I hardly slept last night.”

Jason turned away to face his computer, typing as he spoke. “Relax. This is your first real case, so beginner’s luck, right?” Jeremy hummed, not at all reassured. “You better get to the briefing room before Holden fires you. Oh, and if you die, you can take comfort that I’ll be here to pick up your slack, just like always.”

Jeremy grinned as he walked away. “Fuck off.”

 

 

The briefing room was small and only a handful of people sat within; Jeremy recognised one, maybe two of them aside from Holden, who gestured for Jeremy to sit near the front as he began to speak.

“When I was appointed as head of this precinct, the Fake AH Crew was just two kids who occasionally robbed convenience stores. I thought that busting them would be the easiest case of my career.” Holden turned his hands palms up. “Oh, how wrong I was.” A laugh rippled through the room.

“These men think they run Los Santos. They’ve tried their hands at pretty much everything – drugs, arson, arms dealing; you name it, they’ve probably done it.” Jeremy’s gaze drifted down to the thick file in front of him. “So why haven’t we caught them yet?”

Holden let the question hang in the air before continuing. “We need something more. We need _secrets._ That’s why we’re sending Officer Dooley undercover to join them. He’s young, he’s combat trained, and he’s believable as an aspiring criminal mastermind.”

A few murmurs bubbled up around the room, not loud enough for Jeremy to discern any words. Paranoia crept over his body. He straightened in his chair. “What’s changed? I mean I read the file, this has been going on for years.”

“They’ve been stockpiling weapons. Handguns mostly, but a few bigger items as well.”

“That’s not necessarily illegal,” Jeremy countered. “Anyone can obtain guns with the proper paperwork.”

Holden chuckled. “They're doing this in plain sight because they know we can't touch them, but they're planning something big; I can _feel_ it.” Holden stood back to address the room at large. “We’re taking over one of the interview rooms as our command centre. There will be no cameras, no bugs, and no wire taps – the only way information enters this precinct is through Officer Dooley. Do not breathe a word of this investigation to anyone. Understood? Dismissed.” As the other officers began to trickle out of the room, Holden motioned for Jeremy to follow him.

He led Jeremy to one to one of the interrogation rooms, presumably the new headquarters for the investigation although it was empty save for the usual table and chair, and a duffel bag. Holden motioned for Jeremy to sit. “I'm sure I don’t have to tell you how important this is for the precinct.” Holden gripped Jeremy’s shoulder. “But I have faith in you, Jeremy. Keep working as hard as you do and you’ve got a bright future around here, kid.” Jeremy could feel his cheeks heating up as Holden smiled down at him, squeezing his shoulder before releasing. “Everything you need is in the bag; drop off is in ten.” He turned to leave. “Oh, one more thing. Stick close to Ramsey and Pattillo. They’ll have the most information.”

As Holden left the room Jeremy reached into the bag and pulled out its contents. Inside was a change of clothes, a burner phone, and a gun.

 

*

 

Jeremy could hear the gunshots before he’d even arrived at the drop off point. His ears were ringing as he and Jason pulled up about half a mile away from the warehouse. The guns had to be big, powerful – they were the types of guns that Jeremy hoped he would never have to encounter, but he couldn’t say that he was surprised given the reputation of these guys. The air in the car was tense as they rolled to a stop, neither man saying a word as Jeremy took a deep breath and stepped out of the vehicle. The rev of the engine replaced the ringing in Jeremy’s ears as Jason drove off, signalling the start of Jeremy’s immersion. He cocked his gun, hoping he wouldn’t have to use it, and began to make his way towards the sound of the fight.

Despite his nerves, Jeremy couldn’t help but the thrill of adrenaline that ran through his body as he drew closer to the fight. This was what he had trained for, this was _real_ police work – he was going to make a difference to this city. He shook his head as the warehouse appeared in his line of sight; he couldn’t let anything distract him. Bloodied bodies sprawled across the parking lot; some moved and some didn’t. Jones stood at the entrance to the warehouse, shotgun in hand. He fired three shots which ripped into their victims with astonishing precision. Jeremy knew from the file that Jones was the marksman of the crew but he was stunning in action; Jeremy’s mouth fell agape in awe.

That was until Jones turned his body towards Jeremy and lifted his gun. Jeremy snapped back into action, diving into the surrounding trees as the bullet tore through the air. Catching his breath, he used the trees as cover as he skirted around the perimeter. The blood of the rival gang members created a glossy red sheen that covered most of the ground yet they still appeared in droves, pushing the crew to the limits of their capabilities. The Fakes were outnumbered; running into the fray, Jeremy seized his opportunity.

He was able to disarm a few of the men as he made his away over to the two men, sliding their guns are far away from the fray as he could. These men were reliant on their weapons – they were strong but they had no training when it came to fighting, using brute strength over skill. This is where Jeremy had the upper hand.

A quick scan of the area told Jeremy that Ramsey and Pattillo were sat behind a bullet-riddled husk of a car. They’d fired a few bullets weren’t as central to the action as Jeremy had expected. From what Holden had said to him he’d expected them to take the lead, to orchestrate this weapons drop off down to the second with contingency plans in place for every possible outcome. Regardless of what their play was by sitting out of the action, Jeremy needed them to see that he was on their side.

Whatever ideas were forming in his head were disrupted when Jeremy felt a hand grab his shirt and pull. He stumbled backwards past the man who had grabbed him, barely stopping himself from falling to the ground. His assailant left him no time to recover, throwing his fist forward. Jeremy dodged the punch and twisted himself around to put himself between the man and the founders of the Fakes.

The man threw punch after punch; he missed more than he landed but the hits that connected with Jeremy knocked the air out of his lungs each time. The fight moved quickly, so much so that Jeremy wouldn’t have noticed the man reach into his pocket if it weren’t for the silver glint that caught his eye as the man swung at Jeremy again. Spurred on by the heightened danger Jeremy grabbed the man by the wrist and yanked his arm around behind his back. The knife clattered to the ground as Jeremy pushed upwards, feeling the limb strain against the socket. He leaned forward with all of his weight and pushed the man towards the ground, pressing a knee into his back to keep him there.

“Ramsey!” Jeremy yelled, turning his head back towards the car behind him. His next words were knocked out of his mouth as he felt something connect with the side of his head and he was plunged into blackness.

 

Jeremy was greeted with the sight of five confused faces staring down at him as he came to. His head was throbbing, and a wave of nausea washed over him as he tried to move. A hand planted itself on his chest and pushed him back down. Jeremy’s head lolled backwards. “Gotta….get to hospital.”

“Hospital?” Geoff repeated  incredulously. “Is this kid an idiot? How hard did he get hit?”

“I'm pretty sure he’s concussed,” spoke Ryan. “We probably won’t be able to get anything thing out of him until tomorrow at the earliest.”

Jeremy scrunched his eyes against the words, fuzzy and too loud. He was sure his brain had turned to scrambled eggs inside his skull. “Head…hospital…” he tried again.

Geoff sighed. “Get him back to the house. Dumb kid.”


End file.
